Feng Qingyun might never experience something that strange again in his life, no matter how many times he might be reborn. A chill ran down his spine, and his nape turned cold with a shiver.
Previously, Long Yin had always joked about what would happen if there were two of him, but Feng Qingyun had never taken those jokes seriously. Yet now, with two Long Yins standing in the same room, it was easily the most absurd situation he’d ever encountered. So ridiculous that he didn’t even dare turn his head and look at him.
The hand resting against his neck seemed to be feeling for his pulse. The heart demon’s fingers were slightly cooler than Long Yin’s, but aside from that, there was no difference at all.
It was as if he were being surrounded by two identical lovers, making his scalp prickle and his mind go blank.
A veritable heart demon, something countless cultivators could only dream of seeing in flesh, was standing right behind them, and yet Feng Qingyun felt only absurdity.
Seeing the blankness on his face, Long Yin finally couldn’t help but laugh. He tilted Feng Qingyun’s chin up and asked: “What’s the matter, Little Palace Master? Weren’t you so eager to meet this Lord’s heart demon? What, are you afraid now?”
He didn’t seem the least bit concerned with dealing with his heart demon, nor did he have any intention of following the usual “severing the three corpses” method.
Feng Qingyun really wanted to ask: Didn’t you once practice the Ruthless Path?! Aren’t you a dragon born out of an illusory realm… How could you even have a heart demon at all?!
But… he didn’t dare open his mouth.
For some reason, an ominous feeling had risen in his chest, telling him not to dare provoke Long Yin at that moment.
So… Feng Qingyun could only curse silently in his heart, racking his brains.
What was he supposed to do to make this bastard’s heart demon disappear?!
“This Lord’s heart demon was born of you,” Long Yin, like a worm in his belly, saw through his thoughts instantly. Twirling Feng Qingyun’s hair around his fingers, he lowered his voice and said: “How to resolve it… I’m afraid that depends on the Little Palace Master.”
Feng Qingyun’s throat tightened instantly. In that moment, he realized what Long Yin meant. He was clearly forcing him!
Long Yin’s heart demon had formed because of Feng Qingyun, and though he had become so fixated that he could now take form, as soon as Feng Qingyun turned his gaze towards him… Everything else would fall away.
But to what extent would Feng Qingyun have to go to resolve such a fixation?
A confession? A kiss? Or…
He forcibly cut the thought off before it could finish forming, unwilling to let it go any further. As if urging him wordlessly, the heart demon’s hand on his neck pressed ever so slightly, and with his other hand, he too gently lifted a lock of Feng Qingyun’s hair and pressed a kiss to its tip.
Being surrounded by two people like that was beyond unnerving. Yet Feng Qingyun’s instincts told him that it really was the same person, just Long Yin. So even though his mind was reeling, the blood deed compelled his body to offer no resistance at all.
…So it was bloody ridiculous!
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help but swallow hard. For the first time in his life, he found himself completely torn. When the heart demon’s breath brushed lightly against his neck, he finally made up his mind. With a sudden resolve, Feng Qingyun kissed Long Yin’s lips, his lashes trembling slightly as he finally admitted: “…I’m in love with you!”
Long Yin hesitated for three seconds, then smiled and asked: “Does the Little Palace Master love the version of this Lord who only remembers this life and lives more freely than in the past? If so, I’m afraid you’ll never see him again.”
Just what the hell was this ancient dragon jealous of now?!
Feng Qingyun almost choked on his own breath. After a moment, like he’d been cornered, he closed his eyes and forced out the words buried deeply in his heart: “That doesn’t matter. Whether it’s in this life or the last…” Reaching this point, he faltered, as if baring his heart like that was more shameful than crying beneath someone in bed.
But in the end, he gritted through the shame and continued, “In every life, you are the one I hold dearest! My heart’s one and only!”
At those words, the heart demon clearly froze. Feng Qingyun worried that it still wasn’t enough, so he wondered… Did he really have to consummate “his marriage” again, right in front of a version of Long Yin that looked nearly identical?!
But just as he was burning with embarrassment at the thought, the weight on his shoulder suddenly vanished. In the next instant, the heart demon was gone, vanishing without a trace as it had never been there at all.
The room fell into an unprecedented silence, leaving only the echo of Feng Qingyun’s confession hanging in the air.
Thinking of what he’d just been forced to say, Feng Qingyun felt an inexplicable flush spread across his face, so hot it seemed to scorch his internal organs. But alongside the shame, as he pulled himself out of that rare surge of emotion, another feeling arose, one that couldn’t be named.
Only now did he realize that the person standing before him was the Long Yin who had regained his past-life memories. The one who, in their previous life, had died for the sake of the world. The Demon Emperor, who, no matter which lifetime, would still bleed dry without hesitation for him.
And only now did Feng Qingyun understand that sometimes, when feelings run too deep, words simply fail.
He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out.
Not knowing what he was thinking, Long Yin said nothing either, simply taking Feng Qingyun’s hand and leading him over to sit by the bed. Feng Qingyun sat stiffly, like a newly formed spirit that hadn’t yet learned how to move.
Then, right in front of him, his man slowly leaned closer.
Long Yin moved gently. Feng Qingyun instinctively dipped his head to avoid him, but it wasn’t from true resistance. In the end, he didn’t have the heart to dodge at all.
And when their lips finally met, neither of them said a word.
Soft, delicate sounds of moisture slowly filled the chamber. The press of lips and tongue felt like it reached all the way to the soul, making his entire body tremble. Even when they pulled apart, Feng Qingyun had yet to fully come back to his senses.
As for Long Yin, he didn’t retreat far, simply standing there and fixing his gaze on that pair of eyes that was just within reach.
Feng Qingyun grew a little self-conscious under his stare and instinctively looked away, only to have his chin caught and kissed. Finally, he placed his hand on the man’s shoulder and opened his mouth with a hoarse voice, saying: “…This is the fourth time you’ve lied to me.”
Long Yin let out a low chuckle. “What did I do now?!” he asked, clearly exasperated. “Even this Lord’s heart demon is being blamed on me?!”
Feng Qingyun pursed his lips and said nothing. Long Yin, seeing his silence, leaned in for another kiss, only to be abruptly pushed away by a palm to the face.
“Not a lie?!” Feng Qingyun gritted between clenched teeth, “You knew that heart demon would appear, didn’t you? And you clearly could’ve dispersed it too!”
“How could that be called dispersing?” Long Yin launched into what he knew best, his signature distortion of reason. “A heart demon isn’t some real entity. That’s why, even if this Lord tried to cut it down earlier, it still wouldn’t have had any effect… It only manifested briefly through the mirror, a form without cultivation. How could that pose any threat?” He chuckled lowly, pressing closer to Feng Qingyun as he continued: “At best, it’s just a vessel for communication. So what made our esteemed Little Palace Master so flustered that he even spilled the truth hidden at the bottom of his heart?”
Feng Qingyun flushed with rage and embarrassment. “Since it’s just a way to reflect and refine your heart, why didn’t you try communicating with it yourself?!” he asked.
Long Yin shrugged before answering: “Compared to this Lord, it clearly wanted to talk to you more. The real question is, can you handle both of us trying to ‘communicate’ with you at once?”
Feng Qingyun froze for a second, then finally caught the implication. His face flushed scarlet as he tried to push Long Yin away in fury.
But the man was taller and broader in build. Feng Qingyun, for all his fury, hadn’t actually used any spiritual energy, so he couldn’t budge the infuriating bastard who stood like a mountain.
So he changed tactics. Grabbing Long Yin by the collar, he yanked him forward and coldly demanded: “You say you’ve remembered everything! Then you should remember the truth about your so-called method of ascension, right? What is it?”
“Ah, that…” Long Yin, now close enough to taste the tension, deliberately dragged out the words before casually replying: “I don’t know.”
Feng Qingyun was so enraged that he felt like he was hallucinating. In the end, he could only choke out: “…You don’t know?!”
“This Lord’s memory hasn’t fully returned. At least for now, only the parts involving you are completely intact,” Long Yin said. “Maybe that’s why it took so long… We had to dual-cultivate before I regained my memories. Perhaps after the heavens collapsed in the previous life, some part of the karmic backlash landed on you. And only by meeting you again could I reclaim that missing part of myself.”
It was beautifully said, both poignant and moving… But Feng Qingyun had been tricked too many times already to be swayed. He stared at Long Yin suspiciously for a long moment and finally said: “Then tell me what useful things you have remembered”, following with a stern warning: “Don’t tell me it’s nothing! I’m not buying that.”
“My Little Rose, show some mercy, please…” Long Yin raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, eager to prove his innocence. “At the very least, Su Yunzhou was right. This realm really has been forcibly severed from the outside world. The method of ascension likely has something to do with breaking free of that confinement. But the exact details… I truly haven’t recalled yet.”
Feng Qingyun furrowed his brow at his answer, seeming to accept the explanation, until he launched a much sharper question: “Then what about the matter of rebirth? How do you explain how you acted back then, as if you already knew we would be reborn?”
However, Long Yin replied: “Not we. Just you.” He paused, staring at Feng Qingyun without blinking before continuing: “Have you ever heard the old tale… about the Ruthless Path from ancient times?”
Feng Qingyun blinked. “What tale?” he asked, feeling totally confused.
“A legend from the ancient days about a cultivator of the Ruthless Path.”
After a beat, Feng Qingyun did recall one such tale. It was said that in ancient times, there was a cultivator who followed the Ruthless Path. He killed his wife to achieve enlightenment, and then, fearing his emotions would interfere, went on to murder his entire family and friends. Thus unburdened by any mortal attachments, his cultivation soared unimpeded, and everyone believed he was sure to ascend. Fearing his strength, others avoided him altogether.
But just as he was about to ascend, right after the tribulation lightning dispersed and the heavenly rites were complete, he suddenly dropped to his knees and began to weep uncontrollably. And then, inexplicably, he drew his sword and slit his own throat.
What followed was even stranger: all the loved ones he had slain emerged from the Yellow Springs, stepping over his corpse, and…
Ascended in his place.
The story sounded absurd on the surface, yet it bore all the markings of a myth made to warn: the Ruthless Path was never a righteous one. From the start, cultivators could often overpower those above their rank. If they managed to suppress their heart demons and make it to the late stages, they became near-invincible.
When paired with high-risk paths like the Ruthless Path or other types of demonic cultivation, they were the nightmares of the cultivation world.
Thus, it was not surprising that people would craft such horrifying cautionary tales, parables passed down by word of mouth to deter others from walking the Ruthless Path.
There were other similar tales meant to dissuade people from becoming demons. For example, in one legend, the ancestor of those who cultivated corpses drew so much corpse Qi that when their ascension tribulation came, no thunder appeared. Instead, they drew the waters of the Yellow Springs, which dragged them into the Underworld and forced them into reincarnation.
Back then, the one in charge of reincarnation wasn’t the Mistress of the Underworld. It was the Heavenly Dao itself, before it went silent.
The tale’s message was clear: even if you cultivate as a demon, commit too many atrocities, Heaven will forcibly cast you into reincarnation. As for your cultivation efforts? Gone.
So don’t become a demon. Or if you do, at least don’t act like one.
And yet, that infamous demonic ancestor who routinely massacred entire clans still lived well and ascended in the end. So, most people treated those obviously fear-mongering fables as just that. Stories to scare little children.
Feng Qingyun, too, had never taken them seriously. He’d never thought to connect rebirth with the Ruthless Path, never seriously considered what would happen if a practitioner on such a path made a true offering of sacrifice. But the moment Long Yin spoke those words, Feng Qingyun’s heart gave a hard lurch. A chilling thought surfaced almost beyond his control…
What if that legend… was true?
And then he remembered something Long Yin had said in their previous life:
“The Heavenly Dao has fifty paths, but the sky only shows forty-nine…”
Right.
There were thousands of paths to the Dao, yet Heaven showed no mercy, treating all things as mere fodder. The Ruthless Path, among all the cultivation ways, was indeed the closest to the Heavenly Dao. Once achieved, it always shook the heavens and stirred the spirits.
But such a sure path… Why has it rarely resulted in ascension over the millennia? Was it truly because of the rumored requirement to personally sever one’s worldly attachments, or was it due to that strange occurrence right before ascension… The moment when one suddenly knelt and slit their own throat?
“There is no such thing as ‘destruction followed by rebirth’ in the Ruthless Path,” Long Yin seemed to sense his doubts and began to explain. “Which is why the idea that one must kill their wife and children to enter the path is nonsense. It’s merely speculation based on past rumors about those who cultivated it.” He paused for a moment, then said, with some subtle meaning: “Even if one can’t sever worldly attachments before ascension, they can still become immortal.”
There was something in his tone, and Feng Qingyun instantly caught it, asking: “So you…” He wanted to speak, but his voice came out a little dry. After a moment’s pause, Feng Qingyun finally managed to ask: “At that time, your Dao heart was still intact. If you had truly killed me… Would you have ascended?”
Long Yin shook his head and replied with unusual seriousness: “I never thought of using your life to prove my Dao!”
But he didn’t deny the rest.
Feng Qingyun felt as though something was clogging his chest.
Long Yin may have very well ascended.
Heaven was unkind and treated all things as mere tools. So the Demon Lord wouldn’t even need to lift a hand to personally prove himself. If the entire world, including Feng Qingyun, had truly perished when the heavens collapsed, and Long Yin had remained indifferent, perhaps he could have shattered the bounds of the world and become the first to ascend in such a long time.
After all, when the heavens crumbled, the world was destroyed. So it’s very possible that whatever barrier that prevented ascension was also destroyed with it. And even if it wasn’t, Long Yin still had a chance to survive. After all, even a crumble of success was better than dying pointlessly in pursuit of someone else’s vague hope of rebirth.
But in the end, Long Yin gave it all up. He gave up his chance to ascend, and with it, his only hope of surviving. In the end, he did exactly what that cultivator from legends had done. Metaphorically slit his own throat, giving up ascension and life itself, so that the one he loved might live again.
But to Feng Qingyun, Long Yin wasn’t the same as that man in the tale.
He hadn’t been killed to prove someone else’s Dao. Long Yin owed Feng Qingyun nothing and had no obligation to sacrifice for his sake.
Yet he had done it anyway.
Feng Qingyun couldn’t help but speak, voice hoarse: “…Then when did your resolve to cultivate the Ruthless Path break?”
Long Yin stared at him in silence. After a while, he said, “The moment you said that.”
…Which moment?
The question nearly left his lips, but just before he spoke, Feng Qingyun froze.
“I regret it.”
The words he had once spoken rang in his ears like thunder, shaking his very mind.
So Long Yin’s resolve hadn’t broken when they first met. In that illusory world, the dragon God had willingly gone to die with his sacrifice. When he came out and learned that his bride had merely entered the illusion for training, never recognizing him from the beginning to the end, he simply buried all his wild desires deep underground.
Nor had it shattered during Feng Qingyun’s Dao ceremony with Mu Hanyang.
The Demon Lord had once thought that his beloved, smiling so radiantly at the ceremony, would live a smooth, peaceful life thereafter. He had believed that just watching from afar would be enough, that he could truly let go.
But in the end, that seemingly unshakable Dao had been shattered by a single sentence.
Long Yin gave up on the Ruthless Path the moment Feng Qingyun said he regretted it… proving to him that the one he believed would live in peace and joy for the rest of his life had, in truth, not fared so well.
So his decision to let go had never been a noble one.
In the end, Feng Qingyun wasn’t the only one filled with regret, as everything had merely gone wrong, one twist of fate after another.
Feng Qingyun suddenly choked up, and a boundless sorrow surged in his heart, as though about to drown him, leaving him speechless for a long time.
The dragon God died for his sacrifice. And so, his “bride” escaped the illusion and was reborn in another world.
The Demon Lord died for his beloved. After his death, time reversed, stars shifted, and his beloved returned to the day of the Dao ceremony with another man, three hundred years in the past.
Perhaps, in the unseen threads of fate, it had all been destined from the beginning, from the very moment Feng Qingyun entered that cave and met his God.
Feng Qingyun couldn’t recover for a long time. After a while, in a voice like a dream, he drew up a question from the depths of his soul: “…You already knew, didn’t you? That if one chooses to die before ascending on the Ruthless Path, it can lead to rebirth?”
But Long Yin shook his head. “It wasn’t something this Lord always knew”, he answered. “And that’s not truly how it works either.” Then, he continued mysteriously: “Do you know why, over countless years, so few have ascended through the Ruthless Path?”
Right now, Feng Qingyun felt like an empty shell, drained of all emotion and waiting for something to fill him. He didn’t have the heart to respond and simply shook his head, so Long Yin answered his own question.
“Because the final tribulation of the Ruthless Path comes just before ascension.”
According to him, every cultivator who had reached that final step would, just before ascension, suddenly have their Dao heart shattered by some long-buried emotion.
All the emotions that had been frozen for thousands of years would thaw in an instant. No matter if you were a ruthless Ancestor, a ruthless Sword Master, or even the ruthless Demon Emperor himself, in that moment, they would all become mortals again, full of emotions and desires.
It was the final test left behind by the Heavenly Dao itself.
Every regret you thought long forgotten would replay itself vividly before your eyes… So, in those conditions, would you still regret nothing? And right when your regret would be close to drowning you, it would offer you a chance. All those you killed, your wife, your children, your parents, and friends, everyone can live again. Everything could start over. It was not too late.
That was the final whisper of the Heavenly Dao, close enough to touch.
So, do you still regret anything?
Take one step forward, and the golden road of ascension awaits. But was ascension truly so important? Then what if you stepped back? If you willingly sacrificed yourself, then those who died for you could return to life.
To relinquish your attachments, to transcend even your own life and death itself, how was that not a form of true ruthlessness?
Perhaps that was the essence of the Ruthless Path. For though Heaven may be unkind, treating all things as mere dogs, it also has no heart of its own. As for the Heavenly Dao, it too could see the world as no more than trees and grass, sun and moon… Nothing more than flickering lights.
And so the paradox of the Ruthless Path revealed itself: those born without feelings would rarely pass its threshold. Only those who had experienced deep love and attachment but still chose to sever everything could possibly master it.
Therefore, countless cultivators had been stopped at that final step. For those who died by their hands… They were always the ones they had once truly loved. And when truly forced to choose again, after experiencing all they had and with their Dao hearts shattered, few could stay true to the path.
After all, those hearts weren’t broken by the heavens. They shattered under the weight of their own obsessions and regrets.
And once obsession took root, one could no longer attain true enlightenment, nor ascend.
Yet even in such circumstances, there were still a rare few who could withstand the final temptation of the Heavenly Dao and press forward. So yes, the Ruthless Path could still give birth to success. These people… Those who, even after losing everything and becoming ordinary once more, could still step over the hurdle in their hearts, they were the ones who succeeded.
Wives, children, friends, and kin, they were just stumbling stones on the road to immortality. If they could be killed once, they could be killed a second time as well. With that logic, Feng Qingyun suddenly thought of a name, someone who was terrifyingly suitable for the Ruthless Path. A name so familiar and so loathed that it rose in his mind unbidden.
But no. Long Yin wasn’t that kind of man. If anything, he was the exact opposite. He was, by all measures, the perfect example of a cultivator who was bound to fail on the Ruthless Path.
He hadn’t even been able to personally kill the one he loved in the first place. All it took was hearing those simple words, spoken by someone who had never known his true feelings, just before the world collapsed.
“I regret it.”
And that was enough to shatter his Dao heart, one he had spent ten thousand years refining in the illusory realm he belonged to.
It was absurd to the extreme.
“…So much for ‘number one under the heavens,’” Feng Qingyun muttered hoarsely, arms locked tightly around Long Yin’s neck, the bitterness in his words clashing starkly with the way his voice trembled. “You couldn’t even survive one tribulation… Your attendants were right. Maybe you should just give up the position of Demon Lord.”
It was meant to be scathing. But that thin veil of calm shattered under the quiver in his tone.
Long Yin, however, saw through him instantly. With his nose brushing Feng Qingyun’s, he chuckled softly and asked, “And after I give it up? What then? Am I supposed to marry into your Xiān Gōng Sect? Would that Sect Leader of yours even be willing to take me in?”
At those words, Feng Qingyun suddenly shut his eyes, unable to hold back the single tear that finally slipped free. He hadn’t cried during the collapse of heaven. He hadn’t cried when he learned about the blood deed and the fact that all his life had been a lie.
But somehow, he had already cried for Long Yin so many times.
“How could you…” Feng Qingyun finally lost control. All his composure unraveled. He nearly ground his teeth trying not to sob aloud, but it was no use. He broke, demanding in a choked voice: “How could you treat ascension, your Dao heart, like some kind of joke?! Did it never occur to you that it might not work at all?!”
Did it never cross your mind that even if it did work, you might end up like the man in the legend? That you’d be reduced to a cold corpse, and only your beloved would be reborn in the end?!
Did you really never… not even once… think about me?
“No,” Long Yin said firmly, eyes locked onto him without a blink as his voice turned extremely dominant. “If it’s something this Lord wants to achieve, even the Heavenly Dao, if it still exists, would have to give me face.”
“At worst, I’d end up like that Ancestor, with my body dissolved and soul scattered. But even then, wouldn’t the people he killed still get to live again?” He smiled, leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of Feng Qingyun’s lips before coaxing softly: “But as things stand… I didn’t even have to kill my beloved to reach enlightenment. I’d say I’m a lot luckier than he ever was.”
Feng Qingyun finally couldn’t take it anymore. Still clutching his neck, he growled: “You absolute bastard…”
“Yes, yes, this Lord had always been a bastard.” Long Yin seemed completely immune to his curses. He even dared to raise a hand and gently wipe the tear from Feng Qingyun’s cheek. “But what can I do?” he continued, “when our Little Rose happens to love this bastard?”
It was pure shamelessness. Not a single thing he said was something Feng Qingyun wanted to hear. And the worst part was, he wasn’t the least bit apologetic either. In fact, he didn’t even think he’d done anything wrong!
Feng Qingyun’s chest tightened with rage. Finally, unable to stand it, he yanked the man down and kissed him fiercely.
It was like he wanted to pour the emotions of two entire lifetimes into that kiss, grief, rage, love, and longing, shoving himself into Long Yin’s arms, pressing close as if he wanted to melt into him.
The kiss itself felt like a battle, like he wanted to eat the man’s flesh and grind his bones. And yet, knowing that if he truly let his vines out to “devour” him, the lunatic Demon Lord might actually welcome it, he restrained himself at the last moment… Lest he only enraged himself further.
In all his life, Feng Qingyun had never experienced love and hatred that intense, had never been so utterly consumed by another person.
So that was what real love felt like.
He was in pain when the other was wounded. He was furious when the other chose to sacrifice himself.
It was a storm of passion and a heartbreak that tore his soul apart.
The soft green robes were rumpled in the ferocity of the kiss, exposing a stretch of pale, delicate arm. Long Yin let him vent everything in that searing kiss, then held him close and gently turned his face to the side with one hand.
Still dazed from the emotional whirlwind, Feng Qingyun didn’t expect to be confronted with a pristine mirror, reflecting his flushed and bewitching face, lit by the storm of feelings still lingering in his chest.
Then, like a true demon, Long Yin whispered in his ear: “This Lord already tried that mirror once, just like I told you. Now… Isn’t it the Little Palace Master’s turn?”
…What will your heart demon look like?
Feng Qingyun froze.
Then, as if compelled by something unseen, he too raised his hand and pressed it against the surface of the mirror.
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